Together ForNever
by theSeacopath
Summary: Natalie and Satan are exploring their friendship, and Natalie is wondering if there is more. Most of the Events take place between episodes, but anything overly romantic or sexual takes place after my other Satan and Me fic, "Satan's Lullaby." Satan and Me belongs to Orangeplum. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: Bottle of Jack

**Together ForNever: A Satan and Me Story**

 _Author's Notes:  
Welcome to the life of Nat McAllister and Lucifer. I thought it might me nice to switch my writing focus between writing my main story "_The Last Firefly _" and writing (another) Satan and Me fanfic. Satan and Me belongs to the amazing Orangeplum._

 **Chapter 1: Bottle of Jack  
**  
 _The songs in this chapter are:  
_ 1\. "That's What I Like" - Flo Rida ft. Fitz  
2\. "Bottle of Jack" - Mikey Wax  
I don't own these songs, and they're just there to help the story

Satan sighed for the Dad-knew-how-many-th time that night as yet another annoying song started playing on Natalie's radio. The Devil lounged on the dark blue beanbag chair in the corner of Natalie's room, his horns just peeking over the top edge of the book he was reading. _Trying to read_ , he thought irritably to himself as he watched Natalie. The girl herself was dancing around the room, obviously trying to get Satan's attention. Without warning, thunder crashed outside, and Natalie's dancing reached an almost frantic pace. **  
**

Suddenly, Natalie's feet were no longer under her, and the perky redhead fell over backwards, landing on the floor in a heap. To his surprise, Satan paused his reading efforts to glance at the tangle of limbs lying motionless on the floor.  
As Satan watched curiously, the song changed pace. Satan jumped as the girl's head popped up and _oh no_ , she began _singing_.  
" _I said heeeyyyy, that's what I like, I like about youuu._ " Natalie hopped to her feet and began dancing with abandon again, trying to drown out the noises of the storm outside. Satan grunted in annoyance and went back to his book. A second later, a pair of soft hands grabbed the top of his book and shoved it down. Natalie stuck her head close to Satan's face and sang the last line of the song at full volume.  
" _The way you do what you do, how you do, I like about youuuu!_ "

Satan flailed and nearly fell over backwards just like Natalie had already done. Once he had regained his balance, Satan calmly closed his book. "That was delightful, girl. You remember what I do with 'gnats,' right?" As he spoke, his horns began glowing red. Natalie squeaked and ran from the room before Satan even had a chance to stand up. He sighed yet again, leaned back, and opened his book again. On Natalie's desk, the radio switched to a different song. Grumbling in annoyance, Satan reached up to smash the radio against the wall, but stopped when he saw the door open again. He instantly shrank his horns and shifted into 'Kid Stan' mode, in case it was the girl's father or brother.

Instead, Natalie practically dragged herself into the room and crashed down on her bed, burying her head in her pillow. Satan's eyes widened as he felt the amount of sadness in her mind that had sprung up out of nowhere.  
"Are you going to lie there and look all depressing, or are you going to talk my ear off about why?" Stan asked, trying to keep casual. Natalie lifted her head from the pillow and looked at the devil, visibly upset. Satan's smirk died on his lips as he watched Natalie try to hold her composure. "What happened?" he said, a little too quickly.

Natalie shook her head. "I went downstairs and found my dad drinking. He shouted at me to get out." She sniffed. "It's because Michael brought Mom down from Heaven and he saw her."  
Satan put his book down. "We've already established that Michael is a tool." He shrugged. "What makes this stupid thing he did worse?"  
Natalie buried her face in her pillow again, mumbling words muffled by her fluffy pillow. Satan crossed the room and poked her in the side. The girl shot up and glared daggers at the actual devil. Soon, the fire faded, replaced with sadness again. "He's never shouted at me before," she repeated sadly.

Satan sat down on the edge of the bed and patted her back. "You put up with my brother. I'd have thought that'd be worse than your dad shouting at you."  
"Dad shouting at me _is_ worrrse," she groaned, burying her face in her bed again. Satan thought for a moment, until the annoying radio announcer listed the name of a song he actually liked. An idea began forming, and he pulled Natalie to her feet.  
"What are you doing?" she grumbled. "Is this the part where you squish me like a gnat?"  
"Nope," Satan replied, popping the end of the word. "A good song's coming on, and I'm gonna show you how to dance for real, so I can concentrate on my book without you waving your arms around like you're having a seizure." He moved with Natalie to the center of the room. "Come on. You have until the ads stop to learn, or I'll really squish you, gnat."

Despite his snarkiness, Natalie saw through Satan's words and found the purpose behind them. She allowed Satan to lead her to the middle of her bedroom as the ads carried on.  
Satan held Natalie in his arms and lifted her, placing her feet on his toes. With that, he began to step, humming a song he'd heard long ago in Heaven.  
Natalie looked down, concentrating intently on her feet, until Satan lifted her chin. "Don't look at your feet," he told her. "That's the quickest way to mess up and fall on your ass. Look your partner in the eye."  
Natalie looked up into Satan's face. Even as 'Kid Stan,' he was still taller than her. Surprisingly, as he basically walked her around her bedroom, she felt her feet start to move on their own.

Satan let Natalie go and gave her a little smile, just as the ads on the radio ended. The weedy-voiced announcer came back on, chattering idly about the songs coming up. Satan stared daggers at the radio to hurry the hell up, because Natalie was starting to calm down and lose her infectious smile.  
 _Where the hell did that thought come from?_ Satan thought to himself. _It's just a freakin' smile._  
However, Satan's mental ramblings were interrupted by the radio announcer _finally_ getting to the point and playing the song.  
Guitar notes filled Natalie's room, as Satan took her hands again, and they started to dance for real.

" _She's like a fire burning up the debris. Oh, I need to loosen up my collar to breathe. And there's no window here to let in the breeze, but she can give me all the air that I need. And she flies, through the night. Yeah, she'll keep burnin' till the break of dawn. Like a star, in the sky, she lights the place up when she walks in the door._ "

Satan held Natalie close, looking above her head as they danced. For her part, Natalie kept her eyes fixed on Stan, following his movements. As the song played, Stan turned back into the six-foot-tall, horned demon that regularly crashed on the beanbag. Natalie smiled and moved a little closer to the heat that was now radiating from him. As her cheek made contact with his chest, Satan stiffened, but allowed her to practically cuddle him.

In the living room downstairs, Natalie's father blearily raised his head at the sound of music and footsteps, his vision swimming. Natalie's muffled laugh came floating down through the ceiling, allowing his jumbled thoughts to focus again. _She's been spending so much time with that boy Stan_ , he thought, _it's like he practically lives here._ He put down the empty tumbler he was holding, as the music played on. _But he obviously makes her happy, so who am I to get in the way?  
_ Mr. McAllister pulled himself to his feet and swayed down the hallway to his bedroom, resolving to apologize to his daughter as soon as he could the next morning.

" _She got me spinnin' round the room like a bottle of Jack. She calls me just a friend but I know better than that. And she pulls just like a magnet and I keep coming back. But when the morning breaks through the night, she disappears outta sight._ "

In her room, the song on the radio brought a smile to Natalie's face as she literally danced with the devil. Each movement they made was in sync, and she was snuggled up to Satan's chest, tracing the lines of his dark red tattoos. Little by little, she knew she was falling in love with Satan. As she thought about this, thunder crackled outside again, but she paid it no mind. For this dance at least, in Satan's arms, she truly felt safe.

 _Author's notes:  
I really wanted to write more about Natalie and Satan, because they're my favorite ship in the entire bloody world. And if Orangeplum chooses to do the unthinkable and make their love platonic, I hope I can be a sort of a beacon of non-canon shipping for everyone in the fandom who still lives in denial.  
Anyway, I should have a new chapter out soon.  
Till then,  
-the Seacopath_


	2. Chapter 2: Jealousy

**Chapter 2: Jealousy**

 _Author's Notes:  
I hope everyone enjoyed that first chapter. Here's another.  
Just for some clarity, most of these events take place between the events of the official episodes. Anything romantic or sexual happens after the events of my other Satan and Me story, "Satan's Lullaby."  
Anyway, back to the program._

Natalie burst through her bedroom door to find Satan lounging in the beanbag, reading a book, as usual. He didn't pay her the slightest bit of attention, which was his first mistake. Suddenly, a shoe appeared in his field of vision. _A Doc Marten boot_ , he noted with curiosity, before the force of the throw knocked him backwards over the beanbag and into the corner in a heap. The boot plopped to the ground and sat next to Satan's head, looking as smug as a boot can look. Across the room, Natalie bent over, clutching her forehead and her nose. "That really hurt," she grunted to herself, before straightening up and facing Satan.

"What the hell did you do that to Michael for?" she shouted. Still upside down in the corner, Satan had to crane his head, as Natalie stood over him, furious. "You turned him into a werewolf or something!"  
"What the hell are you talking about, girl?" Satan asked, teleporting himself to a standing position.  
Natalie stood her ground, her arms crossed firmly. "You made his eyebrows grow until he was covered in hair everywhere." She shuddered slightly. "And I mean _everywhere_."

At this, Satan entirely lost his composure and doubled over laughing, which was his second mistake. "So his eyebrows finally ate his face! That hair-growth charm that old witch sold me works like a dream!"  
Natalie stepped up to Satan's chest and poked him with enough force that he stopped laughing and started coughing. This also set Natalie off on a coughing fit, due to their connection. Once Natalie had regained her breath, she faced Satan down, such a fierce look on her face that the Devil took a step back from the angry redhead.  
"Look," he began his final mistake, "It's Michael's fault he's such an easy mark. I've been fighting my brother so long that I know exactly what makes him-"

Natalie lost her temper. "Shut up!" she yelled at Satan. To his credit, Satan actually did shut up. His horns turned yellow as Natalie actually _advanced_ on him, her other Doc Marten clutched in her hand, ready to beat his head in.  
"My friend Michael is _not_ your brother," she hissed, all trace of her normally bubbly self gone. "You don't get to torture my friend like you did today. Now, I _order_ you to fix what you did to him, or you won't be allowed to have anything sweet for a week."  
Satan's mouth fell open. _Nothing sweet for a week? I'd rather go to hell.  
_ Picking up on his thoughts, Natalie paused, before deflating slightly as the anger left her. "Neither of us want that," she said in a small voice. "Just fix Michael, okay? He didn't do anything to you, so he doesn't deserve the Archangel Treatment."

 _But he did,_ Satan thought as he disappeared. _He told me he loves you. And, Dad help me, I'm jealous.  
_ Half a second later, Satan appeared at the door of the Panagakos house, disguised as 'Freshman Stan.' He conjured up a small box and placed some power inside it, before ringing the doorbell. A second later, a striking blonde woman answered the door. "Yes?"  
Satan looked the woman up and down before answering. "I'm here to see your brother, Michael?"  
The woman blushed furiously. "Michael's my son, actually. But he's feeling a bit sick."

Satan nodded, knowing full well the 'disease' Michael was suffering from, and passed Michael's mother the small wooden box. "Just tell Michael it's a present from his friend Nat."  
Michael's mom nodded. Still flushed, she closed the door. Satan took a second to consider the possibility of sleeping with her to spite the brat further, but a disturbing thought forced its way to the front of his mind. _She'd hate you for it._  
Satan growled and disappeared.  
Back in Natalie's room, Satan sat in the beanbag chair and kept reading, until the phone rang. Natalie hopped off her bed and grabbed the phone. She answered brightly. "Hi Michael!"

A second later, the girl's features shifted to a confused expression. "You want to talk to Stan?" She passed the phone to him as though she was holding a live grenade. Satan took the phone from Natalie's hand and braced for an explosion.  
" _Thanks, Stan!_ " Michael's voice came through the phone. " _I don't know where you found that thing, but it really helped!_ "  
"It was just something from home," Satan replied coolly, hanging up on Michael before ha had the chance to say anything else.  
"That was really mean," Natalie pouted from her newfound perch on her bed.  
"That wasn't mean," Satan replied, covering his face with the book again.  
 _What I wouldn't give to really be mean to that asshole_ ," Satan thought with a growl.

However, the door opening again interrupted Satan's thoughts. Alex McAllister walked into the room, blinking sleep out of his eyes. His gaze quickly traveled over Satan, sitting there in full demon mode, and came to rest on his daughter. Panicked, Satan just managed to finish turning into 'Kid Stan' as Natalie's dad whipped back around; the image of the devil only just registering in his brain.  
"Morning." Stan nodded, the picture of innocence. Alex shook his head and looked back at Natalie. "Morning, pumpkin," he began.  
Sensing the impending flood of emotion and awkwardness, Stan shot to his feet and slipped out the door as fast as he could.

Stan sat in the living room, fuming. _Why the hell can't she just let me have any fun_ , he thought bitterly. Soon, his thoughts were intruded by barking. The damn neighbors' dog was yapping at the mailman as he trudged along. A minute passed, with Stan's mood getting worse, until he finally teleported off the couch and into the neighbors' yard. The little Chihuahua turned and actually _charged_ at Stan, until he nimbly reached down and lifted the dog into the air. The Chihuahua yipped and struggled and tried to bite Stan's hand as he brought the dog to his eye level. Stan waited a moment, before baring his fangs and horns, hissing right in the dog's face. The rat-like dog froze, its tiny heart likely beating so fast it could explode.  
" _SHUT. UP._ " Stan growled, his fangs retreating. He put the dog on the ground, and it took off with a blur of its little legs. His mood fixed, Stan hummed to himself as he went back inside the McAllister house, and idly looked around for the cake that Natalie had stashed somewhere.


	3. Chapter 3: Sweater Weather

**Chapter 3: Sweater Weather**

The door of the record shop swung open, and Natalie bounced in, followed by 'Freshman Stan,' who sullenly held an umbrella over his head. Outside, far-off lightning flashed in the night sky, and the rain pounded the street as though the concrete owed the clouds money. In contrast, the record store was warm, and packed with people. At one wall was a bar serving coffee, drinks and various smoking equipment, from cigarettes and vape pens to a hookah the size of a naval cannon. Next to the coffee-smoking-drinking bar thing, a DJ spun records on a deck, the speakers pounding out a beat that was a mix of techno and hard rock. In spite of his damp clothes, Satan bobbed his head to the beat, as he watched Natalie skip through the shelves of records.

Soon, Natalie made her way to the bar's counter, her arms laden down with a stack of vinyl and CDs. "I'll take these, and um," she looked around as though expecting to be arrested, "I'll have one alcohol, please."

The bartender, a heavily tattooed girl, raised her eyebrow at Natalie, as she blushed almost as red as her hair. Satan watched the bartender, carefully reading her tattoos, particularly the large anarchy symbol on her right arm and the pentagram on her left. As he thought about the girl, an idea popped into his head.  
"She'll take a virgin mojito," Satan interrupted, stepping up behind Natalie with a bag for the records. The bartender nodded at Satan. "And what about you?"  
Satan grinned. "I'll take a double whiskey. _Devil_ strength, if you don't mind." As he spoke, Satan allowed his eyes to glow yellow.

The bartender's eyes widened, before she batted them at Satan. She mixed Natalie's mojito, and placed a napkin on the bar under Satan's whiskey glass. Satan took the napkin and licked his lips as he read the phone number off the slip of paper. The bartender leaned closer to the Devil, and Satan grinned. Suddenly, a tug at his sleeve stopped Satan in his tracks. Natalie hung off Satan's arm, and she looked absolutely smashed. Satan jerked in surprise as he saw his now-empty whiskey glass, and Natalie's empty mojito glass. Satan lost his flirtatious smile and allowed Natalie to practically collapse on his arm. "Are you fuckin' kidding me? You're still such a fuckin' lightweight," he grumbled, leading Natalie from the record shop in the direction of her house.

As she was practically dragged along, Natalie started humming to herself. With a small shock, Satan recognized the song they had danced to, a few days ago. However, shivers punctuated Natalie's humming, as she huddled closer to him. Satan looked down at the shivering redhead, and reluctantly handed over his own jacket, taking the bag of records from her. Natalie gratefully accepted the warm garment, and snuggled closer as they walked home. As they walked along, an old woman gave Satan a dirty look, seeing him with someone so much younger than himself.  
Satan held the woman's gaze, daring her to make a snarky comment, until she eventually looked away. _If only these morons knew just who they were giving death stares to_ , Satan thought smugly, mentally listing what he would have done to them in hell. His reverie was interrupted by a tug at his sleeve.

"Can we go home now?" Nat asked, slurring a tiny bit. "It's kinda cold."  
Satan thought for a second as they walked through a small copse of trees, and smirked. "Yeah, I'm not much of a sweater weather person myself. Hellfire is more my thing."  
Natalie playfully smacked Satan's chest, and stiffened when he turned to her.  
"You want to try something?" Satan asked, taking a step back.  
Natalie tilted her head as Satan held out his arm and hand, palm towards the ground. The devil smiled. "Put your arm on top of mine."  
Natalie tentatively reached out and placed her forearm on top of Satan's, and the next thing she knew, the world exploded into a blur of motion.

It felt like hours before Satan clenched his fist and the world stopped rearranging itself around him and Natalie. She staggered away from Satan, holding her churning stomach, and leaned over a bush, trying her hardest not to blow chunks right into the shrubbery. "What the heck was that?" she managed to gasp while catching her breath.  
"Turn around, kid," Satan calmly replied. Natalie turned to see the windows of her own house across the street, glowing into the twilight. Her expression instantly turned from nausea into wonderment. "Did we just teleport or something?"

"Basically," Satan said absentmindedly, looking at his fingernails. "It's how I get around when I can't be bothered walking."  
"Can you go anywhere?" Natalie gasped, before donning a confused expression. "Wait, if you can do this, why did we take the bus to Oregon, and the coast?"  
"It's complicated, kid," Satan shrugged. "Distance can really take it out of me. I'll tell you more about it later."  
Natalie seemed to accept Satan's cryptic explanation for the moment, and held out her hand. Satan grudgingly accepted, dwarfing Natalie's small, pale hand with his own tanned, strong fingers. With that, the pair walked across the road and back inside.

In the house, Satan shrugged Natalie's jacket off her shoulders, as she held onto the wall for support. The effects of stealing Satan's drinks were starting to hit hard. Not for the first time, Satan looked down and wondered in amazement how one person could have such a low tolerance. With a little difficulty, the Devil managed to sneak the tipsy redhead upstairs past her father who appeared to be asleep on the living room couch. Satan slipped Natalie into her bedroom, and silently closed the door behind them. Natalie crashed on Satan's beanbag, and her eyes almost immediately began to close.  
"No way kid," Satan grumbled, hauling Natalie to her feet again. "That's my freakin' beanbag."

Natalie ignored Satan, looking sleepily around the room, until a hand grabbed her shoulder. She turned to find Satan holding out a pair of pajamas and wearing his best " _I-shouldn't-have-to-put-up-with-this-shit_ " face. Natalie gratefully accepted the bundle from Satan, and before he could say anything or even turn away, Natalie pulled her shirt over her head, exposing her pale, slim stomach and her lightly freckled shoulders bearing twin red Hell Seal tattoos. Satan's jaw dropped, and his stomach flipped over. In the low light of her bedroom, Natalie's hair glowed red, and her green eyes sparkled, undimmed by the alcohol or her tiredness. Not for the first time, Satan was at an absolute loss for words. Every animal instinct in his head was screaming at him to take advantage of the situation, but watching her, the reasons fell flat.

As Satan's thoughts swirled around his head, he barely noticed Natalie unbuttoning her pants and stepping out of one leg. However, the two measures of whiskey made her stumble, and she pitched forward. Without even thinking, Satan practically dove forward and caught the falling girl in his arms. Natalie jerked awake in surprise as Satan's arms encircled her, and a second later, she relaxed as his grip warmed her up. For his part, Satan was doing his best to keep Natalie on her feet as she lolled like a doll in his arms. "Come on kid," he grumped, "pick yourself up; this is embarrassing as hell for both of us."  
"Mmmm, no."

Those words allowed the last of Satan's patience to drain away. He picked Natalie up, lifting her feet off the ground, and carried her over to her bed. Satan placed the girl down carefully and removed her other pant leg. Natalie's eyes clouded in confusion and for a moment Satan could have swore he saw _fear_.  
"Relax kid," he hummed, as Natalie stiffened and scrunched her eyes shut. Satan ran his hands down Natalie's body, from her soft shoulders, to her slim waist, down her toned legs, and past her small feet. Natalie's eyes opened again, as fabric fell over her, covering her up again. Satan had draped Natalie's covers over her. As she blinked in surprise, he hopped over her and landed on the other side of the bed, his back to the wall. Satan opened his arm, and Natalie rolled into him, grateful for the warmth.

As her red hair tickled Satan's nose, a thought occurred to him.  
"Kid, if you barf on me, I swear to my Dad I'll…"  
A snore cut through his threat before it could even form. In spite of himself, Satan relaxed against the girl in his arms, and for the first time in a long time, he slept soundly.


	4. Chapter 4: Voices

**Chapter 4: Voices**

 _This chapter takes place after Natalie dies from Pestilence's disease. Satan has just realised Nat is dead. Shit is about to his the fan._

Satan staggered back from the hotel bed, his thoughts spinning, a sick feeling growing in his chest. If his heart actually beat, it would have stopped dead at that moment. Satan collapsed backwards onto the floor. On the bed, Natalie's eyes stared at him, open and unblinking. Satan turned away, clenching his jaw so hard the tendons popped out in his neck. He squeezed his treacherous eyes shut as he felt a single tear slide down his face. His horns forced themselves out of his forehead, turning from blinding yellow, to glowing red; to a black so dark they seemed to suck the light out of the room. Satan forced himself to his feet and ran from the room across the hotel parking lot to a small wooded area, just as the sun rose.

Standing among the trees, Satan clenched his fists, and _howled_.  
An explosion of heat and fire blasted the leaves off the trees and burned the trunks to cinders.  
The earth shook and cracked under Satan's clawed feet.  
Car alarms for miles went off.  
Every window within a mile radius shattered.  
To a bystander, it would have looked like a very large bomb had gone off.  
In the circle of destroyed trees and spot fires, Satan's legs gave way underneath him, and he collapsed, utterly spent. The Devil's shoulders shuddered as he tried his hardest to hold himself together.  
Eventually, his restraint crumbled, and he threw his head back to the sky.

" _WHY_?" he roared at the top of his voice. " _WHY HER?_ _YOU SELFISH BASTARDS! HAVEN'T YOU DONE ENOUGH?_ " He paused, almost hearing the sound of her laugh on the still night.  
" _SHE DIDN'T DESERVE THIS!_ "  
"You're right, bro," a voice emerged from the smoke. Michael appeared, following his own voice. Shocked, Satan's eyes widened as he beheld the sorrow on his brother's face. "She didn't deserve to die. Why do you think I tried to get her to break her contract all those times?"  
"So you could kill me without killing…her." Satan hung his head.  
When Satan spoke next, it was Michael's turn to be shocked.

"I'm done, Michael. I don't care about the Apocalypse, or even sticking it to dear old Dad. I just don't care. None of it even fucking matters any more."  
Michael's eyes widened as he looked at the scale of the destruction around him and his brother. After a moment, he carefully reached out and placed his hand on Satan's shoulder. "You're wrong, Lucifer. You do care."  
Lucifer's head snapped around and he glared at Michael, horns glowing red again. Michael quickly backtracked. "Not about the Apocalypse; I meant you care in general." Michael continued. "I can't bring her back, but I know who can."

Satan stared at his brother in astonishment. "Why would you tell me how to save her? I thought you loved watching me suffer, and let's face it…" he laughed dryly. "This is probably the best way to do it."  
The archangel gave the Devil a determined look. "I couldn't protect her, and I made a promise to someone that I would."  
"Tell me who can bring her back," Satan said in barely a whisper, "and they will know fear, and regret, and pain."  
Michael actually stepped back as he saw the look on Satan's face. His rage had given way to an expression of absolute calm, which in itself was infinitely more terrifying.

"Pestilence can bring Gingersnap back," Michael said cautiously. "Her diseases cause death, and she can reverse the effects."  
As Michael finished, Satan stood up and transformed into 'Freshman Stan.'  
The Devil walked away from his brother, and looked back over his shoulder for one last time. "Stay with her until I get back," he said, his eyes shining again. With that, Michael and Satan disappeared.  
Back at the hotel, Michael sat in the chair across from Natalie's bed, facing the other wall. He could barely bring himself to even look at the glaring reminder that he'd failed in his duties. When he did sneak a glance, the sight almost cracked his mask of righteousness, as he saw the way her dark green eyes had finally lost their spark.

 _Meanwhile, across town ("Richard, It's Business as Usual")_

The wall of the building shook, and the woman named Pestilence crashed through it in an explosion of bricks and plaster dust. As she crumpled in a heap on the street, Satan calmly stepped through the destroyed wall behind her, his eyes glazed over and unseeing. Instead of stepping over the hole he'd made, he simply kicked out the bottom portion of the wall under the hole, sending more bricks everywhere.  
Pestilence raised her head as the Devil advanced on her, fear lancing through her in an icy spike as she heard the mantra he was repeating.  
" _You killed her…you killed her…you killed her…_ "  
As Satan kept advancing, Pestilence pushed herself up on shaky legs and tried to run.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed the collar of her shirt, and Satan stepped up behind the horsewoman of the Apocalypse. His mantra never stopped, worming its way into her ear, sending her heartbeat faster than she thought possible.  
" _You killed her…you killed her…you killed her…_ "  
Pestilence felt the world disappear from under her feet as Satan leaped forwards, and the side of a car appeared in her vision. She crashed into the car, bending the metal. Satan rained blows down on the back of her head and her neck, crushing her farther into the dent she'd made with her own head.  
Pestilence's blood turned to ice when Satan's mantra was joined by thousands of other voices, all deafeningly whispering over one another in a high-pitched drone of noise and fear.

" _You killed her…nEveR lissssTen…IS a GOod per5on…you killed her…out of control-trol-trol…RUN FASTER…paRaSSSites…you killed her…CHUNKY CHARLIE'S EATING UP THE WHOOOOLLLLE FUCKING WORLD…you killed her…iT's A trUe…stORy…his FRiend…spillin' it, spillin' it…you killed her…AlwaYS listststen to MOthER…too much input…spillin' it, spillin' it, spillin' it…too much SeNSaTiON…you killed her…we're on patrol…never gonna HApPeN…IT JUST WENT OFF…you killed her…it just went off-off-off-just went off-off…She'S FInaLLy HERE…he DoeS NOT lIKE that…you killed her…BASTARDS…you killed her…tAke her Back in PIECES…nothing left but coal…let off a HanD GRenADe…you killed her…_ "

Pestilence was wrenched around, and she found herself staring into a face with _too many eyes._ Pestilence very nearly had a heart attack on the spot when all the voices ceased their whisper screaming, and _every single one of them shouted at her_.

" _You killed her; we kill you."_


End file.
